seeing ghosts in everything i do
by champion lyra
Summary: Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he continued this tradition. There wasn't much point to it — he was certain that who he was doing this for wouldn't ever end up receiving them. —Mild DataStormShipping, RyokenYusaku. For Flowers of Vrains!


**Notes**

And hello again! It's... way later then I intended, thanks Fire Emblem hahahaha

Anyways, this is based on a few different things I've seen floating around, and this runs off of the idea that Yusaku does something to celebrate or remember his voice each year, pre-canon.

Little different then my usual DataStorm stuff, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways. This is my first of two (hopefully three!) fics for the Flowers of Vrains event over on tumblr! I'm a sucker for flower language stuff, so of course, I had to do something for it haha.

Written for day one: Dedication.

* * *

"It's that time of year again, huh?" Kusanagi commented to him, as they began setting up the plastic tables and chairs outside of Cafe Nagi.

That time of year again indeed. The stores around them in the district had red, pink, and white signs outside of their doors; declaring sales on chocolate and various wrappers and ribbons to personalize the gifts. The February chill was a bit harsh that day, but it certainly didn't stop girls from going from store to store, bags in hand, looking for the best deals or highest quality ingredients they could find.

Valentine's Day. It wasn't necessarily a dreaded holiday for Yusaku, but unlike the others, this was one he put a little stock into. Not for sentimental reasons, and he definitely did not go out of his way to celebrate by any means, but there was one tradition he did follow.

"I won't be around tomorrow," Yusaku said once they were both back inside the truck. It wasn't the best timing - they were seemingly growing closer and closer to figuring out _something_, anything, now that he'd obtained the Cyberse deck - but it couldn't be helped.

Kusanagi raised an eyebrow at him. "Got a date or something, kid?"

Frowning, Yusaku shook his head. Though they'd only been working together for a few months now, he figured Kusanagi must've been joking. He knew very well that Yusaku wasn't the social type. It had taken a few meetings in Link VRAINS before he'd even bothered agreeing to work with him, after all; and it had only been his dramatic speech and superior hacking abilities that had sealed the deal.

"Definitely not." His voice was flat, and he turned his eyes to the computer screen in front of him. "Just something to take care of."

Kusanagi sat down next to him, stretching his fingers a bit before logging on to his own system. "Well, it's no trouble," he said, flashing a smile at the younger boy. "I don't mind you taking some time off, you know. You're still a kid, anyways."

Scowling, Yusaku chose to ignore that part. He hadn't felt like a kid in nine years.

* * *

He didn't bother going to school that day. Valentine's had always been stressful for him, since the Lost Incident. Too many people, too much commotion. Despite how hard he tried to be detached from his classmates, some girls would inevitably try and give something to him, too, which he hated dealing with. He didn't know them, and they didn't know him. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why they would want to give him of all people a gift for a day of _romance_.

Whatever that meant, anyways.

No, Yusaku didn't bother going to school that day; like he hadn't in the past three years. Instead, once he was sure that school would've started for those who bothered with it, he threw on his hoodie and worn jeans and headed out, wallet firmly in his hand.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he continued this tradition. There wasn't much point to it - he was certain that who he was doing this for wouldn't ever end up receiving them. Yet, no matter what, every year he would do the same thing:

Scrounge up whatever money he had, head to the flower shop, buy a few lavenders that they florist would awkwardly through together with some ferns for him, and go to _that street_.

It had taken him five years to go there, after he'd been kidnapped. Being outside was preferable to being trapped inside - everywhere he went, he had to know each exit and hated being surrounded by crowds - but that street had been completely off limits for those five years. It was incredibly inconvenient, as it was near where his therapist's office was, but it didn't matter to him.

Five years ago, though, he tried facing it once he realized therapy wasn't going to fix him the way everyone wanted it to. Looking back, it was his first step in his current mentally of putting one foot in front of the other.

Try as he might, this was the one thing Yusaku did that he couldn't fully put his finger on _why_. As he stepped foot into the same flower shop as he had every year, he sighed, heading straight for the counter.

No, it didn't make sense. But as he thought about that voice, he realized it didn't matter.

* * *

The streets were quiet and empty, as they always were this time of day. It was only noon, and everyone was either at work or school in this mostly residential area. Yusaku relished in the quiet, almost enjoying the feeling of the cold winter breeze that would come and go. He gripped the flowers tightly in his hand as he walked; the bitter air getting to his gloveless hands a bit.

"Hi," he said, finding the exact spot where he bumped into Him that day. "It's me again."

Placing the flowers down gently, he sighed. Every year, he had so many different feelings it almost made him nauseas. He was sad, he was hopeful, he wanted nothing more than to find this boy and save him.

Yusaku knew that he was still likely with the Hanoi. The boy who had saved him and the boy who had kidnapped him - they were one in the same. It was the only logical conclusion to come to, seeing as he'd spoken to each and every kid in the hospital the day they were rescued, and not one of them had the voice. Not one of them was that boy, either.

"I still think about you every day," he continued, crouching down to where he'd placed the flowers. The soles of these shoes had some holes in them, and this position invited the winter air in, but he barely even noticed. "Thank you for saving me. I don't know where you are right now, but I promise, I'll save you too."

There wasn't much to say that he hadn't already said already, over the last few years of doing this, but he would repeat himself all the same. There was no way that He would ever get these, or hear him, so Yusaku supposed it didn't really matter.

Before he quit therapy, his last therapist had told him that sometimes talking about these feelings could help them not be quite so consuming. He didn't really believe that, considering all he could think about most days was revenge and saving that boy, but all the same, he would continue to talk to this ghost.

"You're the only one I can talk to like this, you know." It was a fact that Yusaku didn't find sad, but Kusanagi most certainly did. When his ally would try to get him to open up to him, or even just confide in him the smallest bit, Yusaku would shut down instantly. He felt guilty about it sometimes, with the way Kusanagi would look at him with those sad, sad eyes, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

"I think lavenders match those streaks in your hair," he said after a moment, trying to visualize the boy the best he could. It had been so many years, and while he could remember his voice with perfect clarity, the boy he bumped into that fateful day was certainly becoming lost to time. "The flower shop owner told me they can mean dedication," he continued, fidgeting around a bit, "and I want you to know I won't give up on you. Not ever."

Finally, Yusaku pushed himself up, still looking down at the kind of barren bouquet he'd bought with the last of his savings for the month. Kusanagi would have a fit if he knew, Yusaku was sure.

He turned around without another word, beginning the long trek back to his apartment. Though he'd told Kusanagi that he wouldn't be around for the day, he might as well get some snooping done in Link VRAINS as Playmaker with the rest of the day. There was no use spending it moping around or anything stupid like that.

Besides, his motivation was restored for the time being. No matter how cold all their trails became, he wouldn't give up. Couldn't. Jin and the other victims were counting on him. That boy, most of all, was counting on him.

_I promise I'll save you, just like you saved me. _

* * *

Ryoken sneezed, wiping at his nose quickly with his free hand. The coffee he'd gotten from that food truck - Cafe Nagi, he believed it was called - warmed his other hand quite well as he walked through downtown Den City.

"Someone must be talking about you," Spectre mused from behind him, carrying the bags of medical supplies they'd gone to pick up. "It is Valentine's Day after all. I'm not terribly surprised."

Narrowing his eyes, Ryoken gave his companion a stern look. "Don't be foolish," he chided. "I don't have time for anything of the sort, regardless."

"Very true," Spectre said, nodding his head. "I apologize."

Still, despite his very own words, Ryoken couldn't help the thoughts that came into his head when he was reminded of the holiday. It was around this time of year that he had to -

He shook his head, taking a generous sip of his coffee. He didn't want to think of that, right now. Not when his father's unstable health was already beginning to fail faster then he'd thought. Not when they still hadn't found the last Ignis, or even had a clue of where to look. Not when Playmaker was starting to run rampant over all his hired help.

Even so, a flash of pink caught his eye, and it took every piece of willpower he'd ever obtained to not whip around and look to see if it were that boy.

"Are you doing okay, I wonder?" Ryoken asked to himself, under his breath. Hopefully, he had recovered properly - gone back to his family, and lived a normal, average life. Hopefully, that boy didn't have to suffer anymore.

"What was that, Ryoken-sama?"

Waving him off, Ryoken took another sip of the warm coffee. "Nothing, Spectre."

Putting those thoughts out of his mind, he could only hope for the best. Right now, he had more important things to worry about.


End file.
